Snow and Pancakes
by Chibi StarLyte
Summary: Pit's never seen snow before, so naturally he'd be excited as ever at the first snow of the season. He'll soon discover that not everyone enjoys it, however... MarthxPit friendship oneshot.


It's been a while since I've put anything up. O.o

This is a quick oneshot for a writing challenge I'm holding on GaiaOnline, called the Drawn From A Hat challenge. Authors draw names of characters from a hat and write a oneshot for each pairing drawn. I've chosen to write for Smash Bros. Marth and Pit was a pairing I drew, so this is my oneshot for them.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Super Smash Bros. Anything and everything related belongs to Nintendo. Grr.

--

"Yaaaaay! SNOW!"

Pit had heard this shouted about a hundred times since he'd woken up. Chilly air nipping at his bare skin dragged him into consciousness and, pulling the covers tighter around himself, he wondered why his room was so cold. Sleepy cerulean eyes peeked over his blankets, seeking out his roommate who wasn't present in his bed across the room. Eh, he was probably in the bathroom or something. Turning over and curling into a ball, he tried going back to sleep, not ready to rise just yet.

Unfortunately, he wasn't permitted by whomever ruled the universe to return to dreamland. The younger Smashers all decided to scream as they ran down the hall past his room--their hurried footsteps sounded more like a stampede than anything. Why did they all have to be so_ loud_?! A low groan emitted from his throat as he flipped onto his other side, facing the sliding glass door leading to the balcony, thankful that the drapes were drawn shut.

Bad idea.

"Rise and shine, Angel Face!" a voice called out, and in a loud rustle of curtain rings scraping against the metal rod, the room illuminated with a blinding light. Pit yelped and immediately sought refuge beneath his comforter and sheets. He growled as Ike's hearty laugh penetrated the heavy material of his blankets.

"Go 'way, Ike…'m sleepin' y'know," the captain grumbled, wincing and squinting as he peeked over the hem of the sheets. He could barely make out the bluenette's silhouette against the brightness that raped his eyesight through the tall glass panels.

Ike smiled out at the wintery wonderland beyond the balcony, which was also covered in powder. "Aw, quit being grumpy and get up! It snowed buckets last night!" he informed the brunette, not bothering to turn around and face him. He placed his hands on his hips and admired the frozen flakes glittering outside in the sunlight.

Giving up the fight for a few extra minutes of shut-eye, the angel sat up with a tired groan. Shivering, he was tempted to crawl back into the warm cocoon of blankets atop his mattress. "…What's _snow_?" he asked, stretching his arms out in front of him, finally able to speak without slur.

The Crimean stiffened, spinning rapidly on his heel. His tattered cape whipped around, nearly smacking Pit in the face. The glare from his hardened blue eyes made his roommate cringe inwardly. "You mean to tell me," he began, emphasizing every word needlessly, "you've never seen snow?"

Pit's wings folded against his back as he cowered beneath his bedspread. "No…I haven't…and why is it so _cold _in here?"

Ike facepalmed, rubbing the cloth of his headband. "Alright," he sighed, striding over to the angel's bed and sitting on the edge. "I guess I should probably explain it to you." His gaze softened, and Pit relaxed a bit. "You remember when it rained a few weeks ago, right?" The bluenette received a nod in response. "And how I said that is was because water condensed and fell from the sky?" another nod. "Snow is basically the same thing as rain…just much, much colder because it's frozen."

The captain's lips pursed in thought. After a moment of silence, he glanced up at the mercenary with curious eyes. "So if it's so cold, why does everyone like it so much?"

"Not everyone likes snow," Ike warned, his expression becoming slightly more serious. "In fact, lots of people _hate _it. A few here, even, don't like it all that much."

Pit had many, many questions running through his head. Why it snowed, why people like it, why people hate it, what you even _do _with it…He bit back the urge to bombard his roommate with his inquiries. The Crimean always had to explain stuff like this to him; surely he grew sick of it after a while. Maybe he'd ask someone else about it. Yeah, that sounded like a plan. He opened his mouth to speak when something heavy and soft smacked him in the face, then fell into his lap. "Pffthph," he spat, holding the fallen material. "What is _this_?"

"Peach made sweaters for everyone," the bluenette said as he headed for the door. "It'll keep you warm. If you want, you can borrow a pair of my jeans, since all you have are shorts," he added with a chuckle, fixing his own royal blue sweater made for him by the mushroom princess.

"Thank you, Ike," Pit said, hugging the black knit pullover to his chest.

"Yup," the mercenary waved as he left the room. He was going outside to help Ness and Lucas build their super snow fort and didn't want to miss out on the action.

The angel slid out of bed and meandered over to his armoire. Shivering, he removed his sleeping toga with ease. The coldness of the room bit at his naked chest and legs, causing his body to tremble involuntarily. With a bit of difficulty, he managed to slip his new sweater over his head. Peach was thoughtful enough to even leave trimmed holes in the back for his wings to fit through. She must have incorrectly guessed his size, though. The sleeves almost completely covered his hands, the turtleneck looked like it could swallow his head whole, and it stretched so far below his waist, he could have worn the thing as a dress if he _really _wanted to. He felt like he was swimming in the heavy fabric, but it was warm, and that was all that mattered to him at the moment. He then padded over to Ike's wardrobe and fished out a pair of dark wash jeans that were about three sizes too big in both waist and length. His toes barely peeked out past the hem of the pant legs, and he tied his belt as tight as it could go to prevent them from falling down.

Ah, yes, this new outfit felt _so much better _than his flimsy, flowing toga. The brunette decided to forgo his laurels for the day. They sat lonely on his nightstand as he left the room. He could really go for some breakfast.

The noise from earlier in the morning has died down significantly, the captain noted as he made his way down the hall to the staircase. He guessed most of the Smashers were outside enjoying the weather. There was a pause in his step as he passed the large window atop the stairs. His sapphire irises widened in delight as he glanced outside, pressing his nose and palms flat against the icy glass. A small cloud condensed on the chilly surface as he breathed. The white sparkles that littered the ground fascinated the angel; never before had he laid eyes on such a peaceful splendor. One would have never guessed that he was as grumpy as can be when he first woke up, from the expression of pure bliss written all over his face.

He watched with great interest as the small figures of Ness, Lucas, and Toon Link entered his line of sight. They ran in circles and zigzags, leaving deep tracks in the perfectly untouched snow. He let out a small laugh as the little psychics pelted the Hylian with snowballs (and Lucas' PK Freeze, which Pit would have considered cheating). This was all so exciting! He wanted to go out and play with them, take part in their seasonal war. His stomach growled suddenly, pulling him out of his joyful reverie.

War would have to wait. Breakfast came first.

The angel dipped his body, knees bent and low, before leaping from the landing of the stairs. He soared down the steps, albeit quite slowly compared to his usual flight speed. The feathered appendages gave a few flaps to soften his descent. The pads of his bare feet touched down soundlessly against the marble floor of the entry way. Now that he'd had his moment of fun, food was calling. Preferably in the form of pancakes. With blueberry syrup and walnuts. Yum.

Veering off to the right, the brunette high-tailed it for the kitchen. He was glad to find the place nearly deserted, save for one lonesome soul seated at a table in the nook. The man--clad in a navy blue Peach-made sweater--didn't even seem to notice the winged boy's entrance; he was far too immersed in his book to care.

"Hi, Marth," Pit greeted as he took the box of pancake mix from the pantry. A frown befell his face when he received no sign of acknowledgement from the swordsman. Shrugging it off, he continued to search the cupboards for the necessary supplies to whip up his meal. He was in the middle of mixing the pancake batter with a wire whisk when the microwave to his right dinged, catching him off guard. He hadn't even realized the thing was on in the first place. Curious, he set the whisk down and clicked the door open to find a steaming mug of water with a tea bag looped around the handle.

Twisting his head around, the angel glanced back to the Altean in search of some sort of reaction of _any _kind. He hadn't moved a single muscle at all; he barely even blinked. Oh, wait. He turned a page. Then it was back to the same stillness, save for his eyes darting back and forth as he read each typed word. The frown that had assumed position on Pit's face quickly transformed into a pout. Marth was being exceptionally anti-social today, which was no fun at all. And Pit thought _he _was being Mr. Grumpy Pants.

The captain sidestepped, opening the cabinet above the coffee maker. He dug out a squeezable bottle of honey, as well as some sugar and the container of cinnamon sticks. Marth wasn't paying attention to his hot beverage anyway. A few changes wouldn't hurt, right? With these extra ingredients and the cup out of the nuker, he set to work on concocting an irresistible tea that would surely knock the cold man out of his concentrated stupor. He stirred the hot liquid with a cinnamon stick a few times before curling his fingers around the handle of the mug and picking it up off the counter. His feet slid across the floor as he made his way to the pretty boy, setting the teacup down.

"Here's your tea, Marth. I added some stuff you might like to it," he informed the dark-haired prince with a smile. Icy blue eyes shifted from their spot on page 371 to the hot tea on the table.

"Thanks," Marth muttered as he focused once more on a very interesting paragraph.

Pit hesitated for a moment before backing off, returning to making his breakfast with an I-give-up sigh. He unhooked a frying pan from the hangars above the stove and set it on one of the front burners. With a turn of the knob, a blue fire ignited under the pan. Pit knifed some butter into the pan and swirled it around with a spatula, watching it sizzle and melt. Why couldn't he get Marth to melt like the butter?

With careful hands, he poured small circles of batter into the fryer. As his pancakes cooked, he rinsed the nearly-empty bowl in the sink and set it aside. A chef must always have a clean workspace, after all. The pancakes continued to cook as he crushed up some shelled walnuts in a small bowl and retrieved the blueberry syrup from the fridge. A couple crackles of the butter told him that the food was ready to be turned. He flipped the flapjacks with the spatula, and soon enough, his breakfast was finished with its stove business. He scooped the golden fluff from the pan, placing them ever-so-delicately on a clean plate. He drizzled them with the blue syrup and sprinkled the walnuts on top, creating a morning-time masterpiece. The angel smiled proudly at his work before tidying up his mess.

Now he could finally eat.

Pit shuffled over to where the Altean still sat reading, plate of pancakes in hand. He took a seat on the other side of the table and quietly picked at his breakfast. Sapphire orbs glanced up, just now noticing the surprisingly empty mug that used to contain tea.

Whoa, wait. Marth downed the whole thing? When did _that _happen?

"Did you like the tea?" Pit blurted out before he could stop himself, immediately shoveling in a mouthful of pancakes. His cheeks puffed out from the huge mass of golden-brown-blue food currently resting in his trap, and he could have sworn he saw the corners of the swordsman's lips twitch into a tiny smile that lasted about a millisecond.

"Yes," Marth said as he twisted in his chair, propping his elbow on the tabletop and holding the book up in front of his lovely face. "It was tasty."

The brunette swallowed with a wince; he could feel the huge ball of chewed batter slide its way down his esophagus. It was almost painful. That didn't stop his eyes from lighting up, however. He was always happy to hear that his preparations in the kitchen were well-liked. "I'm glad," he finally said, staring down at the half-pile of flapjacks on his plate. "I hadn't tried the honey and cinnamon combination yet, so I wanted to--"

Both males jumped in surprise as a humungous snowball splattered across the window. A light bulb clicked on above Pit's head as he remembered that he wanted to go play in the snow! His azure eyes darted from the window to his breakfast and back to the window again. "Do you want the rest of these?" he asked the man seated across from him.

The pretty boy turned his whole head away from the book this time, staring at the pancakes with peculiar interest. After a moment, he turned his attention back to a riveting sentence on page 398. "No. I'm fine," he muttered, his voice drifting off as he continued to read.

Shrugging, Pit took his dish to the counter. He wrapped the pancakes in plastic wrap and set them in the refrigerator--just in case someone wanted them later. As he stepped over to the sink and twisted the hot water knob, he shot a glance over his shoulder at the prince. "Well…do you wanna come outside in the snow with me?" he asked as he lathered his small hands with soap. "I've never seen it before, so I'm really excited! I saw Ness and Lucas and Toon Link throwing it at each other. I don't know why they were doing it, but it looked like so much fun!" The angel let out a giggle as he rinsed his hands, proceeding to dry them with the dish towel next to the sink. "So what do you say?"

A strange silence settled between the two. Marth visibly stiffened, his grip on the book so tight that his knuckles turned white. "I…no," he stated, hiding his face behind the pages. "I _hate_ snow."

The captain almost let out a surprised gasp, nearly choking to fight it down. Ike was right…people really _did _hate snow. "…But why?" he breathed, unaware that he actually said the words aloud. His hand clapped over his mouth as if in an attempt to cover up his word vomit. Cold eyes shot up from the ink-pressed words, too shocked to even manage a glare. The prince's gaze froze Pit in his spot before the sink. In the blink of an eye, the Altean's tall figure stood towering over him, pressing his small frame against the counter.

"It's _cold_ and _wet_ and _sticky_ and _disgusting_," the bluenette said, his tone sharp enough to shave the brunette's head bald. "The only purpose it serves is to annoy me to no end and cause the children to go absolutely mad with excitement. They do nothing but scream _all day _and come inside sopping wet with grime and mud, tracking _filth_ everywhere they go. I _loathe_ it with every fiber of my being."

Pit outwardly cringed, shaking in his oversized clothing. The swordsman's icy eyes locked with his own ocean irises in a cold glare that didn't seem to melt, despite the fervor dripping from his voice. The winged boy felt as if all the oxygen was being sucked from his body; his breath hitched in his throat, forming a lump so large he couldn't even breathe, let alone try to speak.

"I…I apologize…"

Just like that, the Altean backed away, his head angled toward the floor. Pit took in a sharp breath, his respiratory system functioning properly once again. His chest heaved as he stared at the prince with a frightful gaze. He'd never seen Marth so angry before…

"I…you…really hate snow that much?" the angel squeaked, taking a hesitant step toward the stiffened male. Before he could really control his actions, he reached out and placed a comforting hand upon the bluenette's shoulder. His grip tightened as a pair of startled blue eyes met his own concerned orbs of a lighter hue.

"I do…yes," Marth muttered almost shamefully, desperately trying to tear his gaze away from the younger boy, but finding himself unable to do so. Something about Pit put him slightly at ease, settling the anger that had been boiling in the depths of his gut mere moments ago. Cooling off the raging inferno within.

"I'm sorry," the captain said with utmost sincerity, being the first one to break eye contact. He lowered his head and let out a small sigh, his shoulders hunching forward slightly. The hand half hidden by his oversized black sweater slid slowly off the swordsman's shoulder until it dangled idly at Pit's side. "I'll leave you alone, then," he whispered as he attempted to slide past the other, the small of his back still pressed against the edge of the countertop.

"Pit, wait," Marth said, his voice slightly pleading. On command, the brunette stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face the man that addressed him. "Please…forgive me for my outburst. It…was wrong of me to take my hatred out on you," he apologized, grasping the angel's hand without even realizing it at first.

A beautiful, forgiving smile graced Pit's face moments later, and the Altean just about melted into a puddle on the floor. "It's okay, Marth," the angel replied, giving the bluenette's hand a light squeeze. "We all like and dislike things. You're allowed to hate snow."

The prince couldn't help but let a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. The winged boy's infectious kindness never ceased to amaze him. "Thank you," he said simply.

"Well, I'm going to go play outside now. Will you still be here later?" Pit asked, excitement causing his voice to crack slightly.

"Most likely. But…before you go outside…," Marth began, unforeseen nervousness suddenly consuming his entire body. "…Will you make me some pancakes?"

The angel giggled at the blush creeping its way across the swordsman's cheeks.

"Of course I will!"

--

Okay, yeah, the ending is really weak, but...since when have any of my endings ever been strong? Ah, well...

Hope you liked it. Man, we need some more MarthxPit fanfiction.

Until next time,  
Chibi


End file.
